Coming of Age
by believer76
Summary: Babylon 5 Highlander crossover. Duncan, Connor, Methos and Richie all travel to Babylon 5 for a little rest and relaxation and trouble soons follows


**Coming of Age**

**A Babylon 5/Highlander **

**Crossover**

Methos, Connor and Duncan MacLeod, sat in Connor's room sipping drinks and waiting for the passenger liner they were on to dock on Babylon 5.

"Now remember you two the only reason I agreed to come along was because you promised to not cause trouble," said Methos who was now using to name David Cochrane.

"Us cause trouble?" asked both Highlanders innocently. Methos sighed and shook his head at the MacLeod' twin expressions of innocence.

"Oh come on Methos you know the real reason you came along was because you needed a vacation as much as we did," said Duncan.

"Okay, I admit I needed a vacation, but I could have taken it somewhere like Tahiti girls, drinks with those little umbrellas in them. Sitting by a pool and just relaxing..."

"And being bored out of your skull," Connor interrupted. "I hear there is plenty to do on Babylon 5."

Before Methos had a chance to reply the intercom came to life. "Attention passengers we have just finished docking at Babylon 5. We hope you had a pleasant flight."

The three of them exited Connor's room with their luggage and walked down the gangplank and onto Babylon 5.

"I.D." said the man waiting at the security checkpoint just before they entered Babylon 5. Connor, Duncan and Methos handed over their identicards.

Suddenly an alarm began to sound and said, "Weapons violation, weapons violation." The brown haired man looked up and gestured for the three to move off to the side. Garibaldi moved over to the three while a younger man took over.

"All right, you three. Let's see the weapons you guys are carrying," said Garibaldi.

"We aren't carrying any weapons," said Methos innocently. "Maybe your computer is not working right."

When Garibaldi looked at them and was about to speak, Connor said, "Go ahead, search us. You won't find any weapons."

Garibaldi and another security officer did just that and found absolutely nothing. Garibaldi just shook his head in confusion. The computer had never been wrong before.

"You may go, but I'll be keeping an eye on you."

Connor, Duncan and Methos escaped while they could unaware that they had eyes watching them. The Minbari Lennier followed them silently as per Delenn's orders. Somehow Delenn had known that they were going to be here today.

"That was as close as I like to come to being arrested," said Connor as they walked. "Sometimes it's a pain to have to carry a sword everywhere."

"True especially with technology getting more advanced by the year," said Duncan. "I mean don't get me wrong I have nothing against technology, but it is getting harder to survive and play the game without everyone getting involved." Connor and Methos just nodded both agreeing with that statement. Lennier raised an eyebrow at the weird conversation and continued trailing them carefully.

Methos stopped suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck prickling slightly. He knew that feeling they, were being followed by an expert. It couldn't be a Watcher they weren't that good. "We're being followed," said Methos to his friends softly.

Connor and Duncan both looked around, but saw no one, but they trusted Methos' instincts.

"We'll let's lose them," said Connor, as he started walking again.

"Why don't we split up?" suggested Methos. "You two go find us some suitable quarters and I'll meet you in the Zocalo in an hour."

"All right, but stay out of trouble," said Duncan.

"Me get into trouble? That's your department MacLeod," said Methos with a wink and a laugh as he disappeared into the shadows. Both MacLeods' shook their heads and continued on their way. Lennier stopped for a second trying to decide who, to follow, but he had been ordered to follow the tall, brown haired man. He followed the brown haired man into the shadows only to be grabbed from behind and spun around. "Why are you following us, Minbari? Either you answer me or you're not leaving alive." The threat hung in the air between them.

Lennier looked into the man's eyes and saw something very ancient within this man's soul. "I was ordered to follow you, by the ambassador," said Lennier.

"What's this ambassador's name I would like a word with him."

"Ambassador Delenn," said Lennier.

Methos' hands dropped to his sides in surprise and he said, "I apologize to you for the threat Mr. . . ."

"Lennier, I have a message from the ambassador for you."

"I apologize again Mr. Lennier, but me and my friends do not like to be followed. We have not survived as long as we have by being easy to track. What is the message?" asked Methos.

"She would like to see you as soon as you have settled in," said Lennier.

"Lead the way. I would like word with the ambassador myself." Lennier turned and led the way while he was wondering what the strange man had meant when he had said we have not survived as long we have by being easy to track. It almost sounded like the man had been around for centuries, but that couldn't be true. He didn't look more then 30 or 35, but his eyes spoke volumes. His eyes looked like they had lived a thousand lifetimes. The eyes after all were windows to the soul.

"We are here Mister..." Lennier's voice trailed off, realizing he didn't even know this guy's name.

"David Cochrane." said Methos. Methos rang Delenn's bell and the door slid open almost immediately. Methos entered and looked around at Delenn's quarters. Suddenly Delenn came in from the other room and said, "Welcome old man," in Minbari.

"How did you know I was coming, Delenn?" asked Methos also in Minbari.

Delenn smiled and said, "I have my sources, old man."

"Please call me David, that's the name I am using now," said Methos. "No one needs to know who me and my two friends are."

"Where are your two friends? I would like to meet them," said Delenn.

"I told them I'd meet them in the Zocalo in about half an hour. Hopefully they can stay out of trouble that long. You'll like them. They both have that old fashioned Scottish charm."

Lennier was listening to the conversation with one ear while trying to look like he was doing something else.

"Oh, so they are like you then?" asked Delenn, curiously. Delenn did not know actually what David was, only that he was different from other human beings. Last time she had seen him had been about ten years ago and he'd been using the name of Adam Dawson.

"Yes, they are." Then quickly changing the subject he said; "You've changed Delenn. So how did this transformation come about?"

Delenn told him about all that had happened in the last few years and he said nothing until she finished. When she was done he looked his watch and said, "Uh oh, I was supposed to meet them ten minutes ago. I had better go. I will see you before I leave Delenn. Oh by the way, I do believe I remember Valen saying that his transformation was considerably more difficult," said Methos and with that last statement he went out the door leaving a stunned Delenn and Lennier behind him.

Meanwhile in the Zocalo

Garibaldi was watching two of the suspects from a distance as they walked through the Zocalo. "David is late you know," said Connor.

"I know, if he isn't here in five minutes I swear I'll kill him," said Duncan

The two felt an immortal and tensed up. Then they saw who it was and relaxed their stances, which had tensed up almost automatically.

"Hey guys," said Methos.

"You're late," said both MacLeods' at the same time.

"I know and I'm sorry I got held up," said Methos.

"You're forgiven as long as you're paying for dinner," said Connor.

Methos sighed and agreed, knowing it was useless to argue with two stubborn, Scottish Highlanders. "Ah, you bought drinks. Good," said Methos, trying to lighten the mood. He picked up the mug in front of him and tasted its contents. A few seconds later he swallowed it, but made a face. "Don't they have any decent alcohol on this god forsaken station?"

"Methos, must you always think of beer? Real wine this far out in space is expensive."

"Well at least in Tahiti, I can get a decent drink plus I can get woman. Oh by the way, I want you to meet a friend of mine who is an ambassador for the Minbari, on this station."

"Sure," said both MacLeods'. Both MacLeods' just shook their heads and said nothing more.

Garibaldi watched silently as they ate at the Fresh Air restaurant. So far they had done nothing suspicious expect when the two Scotsmen had tensed up for what had seemed to be no reason. Otherwise they seemed just like your normal tourist, but his instincts were warning him of danger with these three and his instincts were hardly, ever wrong. If only he could hear what they were saying.

"We are being watched you know," said Connor, suddenly.

"I already knew that I could feel his eyes on us," said Methos.

"He isn't being very inconspicuous is he," said Duncan.

"Why can't he just leave us alone? We came here to relax to get away from being spied on," said Methos.

"You know I've heard of this Mr. Garibaldi," said Connor. "He messed up on every assignment he got by drinking too much, until he met Jeffery Sinclair. The he stopped drinking and Sinclair got him assigned to, Babylon 5 as security chief. He stayed on after Sinclair got reassigned."

"Sounds like a real nice guy," said Methos.

The next morning

Connor and Duncan walked down the hall towards Delenn's quarters. "So does she know what we are?" asked Connor.

"Not exactly, all though she's always called me old man, she doesn't know how old. I think she senses something in me which I cannot explain," said Methos. They reached Delenn's quarters and were ushered in immediately. "Delenn, I'd like you to meet Connor and Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.

"Same clan different vintage," said both Connor and Duncan automatically then blushed embarrassed. "I'm pleased to meet you ambassador," said Duncan and Connor echoed his kinsman.

"Please have a; seat gentlemen," said Delenn gesturing to a seat. They all sat down and Delenn spoke first. "I have wanted to meet you for some time ever since David mentioned he had friends that were like him and all though I do not know exactly what he is I can guess."

"And what do you think we are Ambassador?" asked Connor, with a smile, "Demons' perhaps? Some kind of spirits?"

"No nothing like that," said Delenn. "I think you are immortal people who are forced to wander the universe alone. People who are forced to watch everybody they care about die around them of old age, while they go on."

Connor said nothing, but his eyes said it all. _This woman is to damn perceptive,_ thought Connor. _She; knows more then she should and it could get her hurt or even killed._

"I wouldn't tell anyone what you know ambassador," said Duncan, with a frown. "Knowing too much about us can get you hurt or even killed by others like us that are totally evil."

"And don't call us Connor or Duncan out in public either. Here we are using other names for our own protection as well as yours," said Connor, as he got up to leave Duncan following. Delenn stared after them silently, knowing she had hit a nerve and gotten through Connor's shield that held his emotions in check.

----------------

Later that day

Connor went to the bar to get nice and drunk. Of course with him being immortal it wouldn't last long, but he had come here to relax after all. As he sat down he noticed a very pretty girl sitting on one of the stools, leaning over what looked like Vodka. "Scotch," he told the bartender. "Excuse me, but you look sad," said Connor to the woman.

"What are you talking to me?" asked Ivanova

"Yes, want to tell me about it," said Connor.

"I don't even know you," said Ivanova.

"Alan MacAllister, and your name?"

"Susan Ivanova, Commander Susan Ivanova."

He took a sip noting how weak it was. _They must have watered it down,_ thought Connor. "So what is the problem, Susan Ivanova?"

"You can just call me Susan," said Ivanova liking Alan MacAllister, almost immediately.

"And you can call me Alan," said Connor.

"My personal problems are not your concern Alan," said Susan a little more harshly then she intended. She paused, "It concerns a man."

Connor laughed quietly._ Of course it did. Weren't personal problems always about men?_

Suddenly Susan started to open up and told Connor all about Marcus. About feeling she had been keeping inside for a long time. Connor listened silently and thought, Susan is a lot more vulnerable then she lets anyone see. When she's working she's the tough second in command and even when she's not she keeps her emotions in check. "Sounds like you need to tell this guy how you feel, before it's too late," said Connor when she finished.

"I can't, he'll probably just reject me, besides he isn't even on the station at the moment," said Ivanova.

"You won't know unless you give it a try," said Connor

Ivanova just nodded and thought, Alan's advice made sense, but was to brave enough to tell Marcus how she really felt? Ivanova swallowed the last of her vodka in one gulp and kissed Alan on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear before she left the bar.

"You're welcome," muttered Connor under his breath. "More scotch," he called to the bartender. "And this; time don't water it down, in fact just give me the bottle." He then proceeded to get drunk.

----------------

Duncan found Connor in one of the bars in downbelow 12 hours later. "Don't you think you had enough Alan?" asked Duncan.

"No," said Connor, drunkenly.

"How much has he had?" Duncan asked the bartender.

"Three bottles of scotch," said the bartender.

"The real thing?" asked Duncan.

"Yes," said the bartender.

Duncan shook his head and pulled Connor to his feet. "Come on I'll get you to bed and you can sleep it off."

"I'm not going anywhere," said Connor, in a voice loud enough to cause people to stare.

"Connor don't make me knock you over the head and carry you out of here, because I will if I have to," said Duncan.

"You wouldn't!" exclaimed Connor.

"Try me," threatened Duncan.

Suddenly Garibaldi showed up and said, "Need any help?"

"No, thank you I've got it," said Duncan. "Come on, Alan time too go."

Connor went a little more willingly this time and Duncan half carried half, dragged Connor to his quarters with Garibaldi following. Duncan put in Connor's code to open the door and then carried Connor to the bed. He silently pulled off Connor's shoes, but decided to leave his clothes on. Connor was snoring almost instantly, and Duncan left with Garibaldi close behind.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Garibaldi."

"You're welcome. Hey, how do you know my name?"

"Just a guess, I've heard of you from a friend," said Duncan, evading the question. "The name's Luke Brewster."

"I know," said Garibaldi, grinning.

Duncan didn't look surprised that Garibaldi knew his name and said, "Can I buy you a drink, Mr. Garibaldi?"

"You can buy me a; water, Mr. Brewster and you're on," said Garibaldi.

----------------

A few minutes later

"So how long have you known Alan MacAllister?" asked Garibaldi as he sipped at his; water.

"All my life," said Duncan. "You see we're cousins."

"Does he often get so drunk he can barely walk?" asked Garibaldi.

"No not often, just when life gets too be too much for him. I'm usually the one though to drop whatever I'm doing and put him to bed."

"Why do you do it?" asked Garibaldi.

"Because he's the only family I have left," said Duncan. "My whole family died a long time ago." _Longer then you'll ever know or understand._

"I'm sorry," said Garibaldi. "I really don't have much of a family anymore either."

"It's okay they've been dead for a long, long time. Alan and I have gotten through some tough times just by being there for each other," said Duncan thinking of Slan Quince and how he had met Richie on that long ago fateful night. Duncan gulped down the rest of his Scotch in one single gulp and said, "Maybe I'll see you around Mr. Garibaldi. Oh and one thing don't try to track me and my, friends. We've had a great deal of experience knowing when we're being watched." With this last statement Duncan left leaving a very surprised Garibaldi behind him.

Duncan entered Connor's room to the sound of the shower running. He sat down in one of the chairs and waited for his kinsman to finish. Finally silence reigned and Connor entered the room. "Oh hi Duncan," said Connor, causally.

"Oh hi Duncan is all you can say after that scene you caused in that bar in downbelow?" asked Duncan. "I'm surprised Mr. Garibaldi didn't arrest you for causing a disturbance."

"I'm really sorry about that," said Connor.

"Are you going to tell me what the problem is?" asked Duncan.

"You're not my therapist," said Connor sarcastically.

"True, but I am your kinsman and your friend," said Duncan, softly.

Connor's mouth snapped shut at Duncan's last statement and he hung his head ashamed.

"It was nothing really," said Connor slowly. "I just got to thinking the way we live through the centuries watch our friends die of old age or in accidents, sometimes I think it just is not worth.

"What brought this on?" asked Duncan.

"I was talking to this woman in the bar trying to help her with a problem and it just got me to thinking," said Connor.

"A woman, it always has to be a woman," Duncan muttered then he let out a string of Gaelic curses about woman in general.

"Hey watch your language," said Connor sharply, always willing to defend the opposite sex.

"Connor we all pay the price for our immortality, you know that, in fact you are the one that taught me," said Duncan ignoring Connor's reprimand. "Now why don't you get some sleep? Things will seem brighter in the morning." Connor just nodded and silently headed towards the bed. "How'd you get so wise?" asked Connor.

Duncan laughed softly and said, "From you, my friend, from you." Then he left Connor to sleep.

----------------

Meanwhile Garibaldi sat in the security office alone, silently observing the two through the cameras planted in the room. What was all this talk about immortality and then calling each other Connor and Duncan? What in the hell was going on? He didn't know but he was going to find out even if it killed him.

----------------

The next morning

"You know I wonder if we can find anywhere to practice our sword fighting," said Connor, looking much better then he had last night. "After all we don't want to get rusty."

Duncan agreed and said, "I'll go see the captain about it tomorrow."

----------------

Later that same morning

Duncan was up early doing his Kata exercises and as soon as he was done he left to find the captain. He had met Sheridan once about ten years ago and it was not a friendly meeting, but they had parted as friends in the end. Duncan spotted him a few minutes later on his way to command and control.

"Captain Sheridan," Duncan called out. Sheridan stopped as Duncan ran to catch up. "If I could have a minute of your time captain."

"What can I do for you Mister..."

"Luke Brewster, we met about ten years ago," said Duncan.

"Oh yes now I remember, now what can I do for you?" asked Sheridan.

"Oh can we go somewhere a bit more private to discuss it?"

"Sure," said Sheridan, heading towards his office in C&C. As they excited the elevator Ivanova looked up and stared at the handsome stranger that walked in behind Sheridan. Sheridan entered his office Duncan close behind. He didn't like the, stares he was getting it was making him self-conscious. "Have a seat," said Sheridan gesturing to a chair.

"Captain, the reason I came to see you was that me and my friends would like to keep up on our sword practice while we are here, and we would like permission to use somewhere in downbelow.

"Sword practice, why in God's name would you have to know how to use a sword?"

Duncan hesitated for a split second then said, "It's family tradition, captain. My family goes all the way back to Scotland in the late 1600's. It is said that; their was this boy by the name of Duncan MacLeod who would one day be the chief of his clan. Until he went into battle and was severely wounded and died, but a few hours later he awoke as if he had never been wounded. His own father called him a demon and the clan council banished him from the village never to return. I am the so many times great grandson of Duncan MacLeod and my father taught us to always keep up the practice with a sword whether on vacation or at home." Well it was partly true anyway Duncan just hoped Sheridan didn't do any research on the name Duncan MacLeod.

"But that's just a legend and in this day and age their is really no need for swords except as antiques for collectors," said Sheridan, not sure that Brewster's explanation made sense. There was something that didn't quiet ring true about it. Sheridan looked at his guest and MacLeod stared right back looking Sheridan in the eye. "All right I'll agree on one condition," said Sheridan finally.

"What's the condition?"

"That you let me come and watch," said Sheridan.

Duncan thought about it for a minute then nodded. If it was the only way they were going to get to practice so be it. "You find us a suitable space to sword fight in, where we won't be disturbed and I'll agree. The slightest disturbance could be deadly." Duncan got up and left.

As soon as he was gone Sheridan turned on his computer and said, "Inquiry. Search for the name Duncan MacLeod."

"Parameters?" asked the computer.

"Search all of Earth's historical databases as far back as you have records." Within seconds about l00 names came up. Sheridan went through them slowly until his shift ended. He saved the rest on a data crystal and headed towards his quarters.

----------------

Duncan got back to his quarters to find Connor and Methos waiting for him. "It's about time you got back," said Connor. "So? What did you find out?"

"The captain is going to find us somewhere where we can practice, but only if he can watch. It was the only way he would allow us to practice."

Connor thought about that for a few seconds then nodded. "We will just have to be careful not to cut each other," said Connor.

"This is a bad idea, guys," said Methos. "I have this sinking suspicion you're going blow our cover."

"Oh come on, we need to keep in practice, Methos, even on vacation. What if some evil immortal comes after our heads, and we're rusty because you thought it was a bad idea to practice?" said Duncan, sarcastically.

Methos just sighed and muttered under his breath, "Highlanders are all stubborn to the point of throwing caution and common sense out the window."

The next morning

Connor, Duncan and Methos all headed for downbelow looking for brown 7. They found it a few minutes later and what they found was a good, sized room with no decoration whatsoever. Just a floor four walls and a, ceiling. John Sheridan was already waiting for them. "Captain, this is my cousin Alan MacAllister and this is David Cochrane a friend of ours," Duncan introduced them.

Sheridan shook their hands and said, "Pleased to meet you."

"It's a pleasure captain," said Connor/Alan MacAllister.

Duncan drew his Kanta while Connor drew his sword. They saluted and then the fight began. Back forth, back forth, parry; riposte. Sheridan watched with fascination as he watched the two friends parry blow after blow until sparks flew from both swords. It was like a dance, dangerous and deadly. Suddenly Duncan scored a hit drawing blood from Connor's arm. Connor grunted in pain, but continued to meet Duncan's sword blow for blow. Finally Duncan had his sword at Connor's neck and he asked, "Do you yield?"

Connor stood still for a solid minute before finally saying grudgingly, "I yield." They bowed to each other then put their swords away. "You've improved you used to never be able to beat me."

"I learned from the best," said Duncan. By this time they had both worked up a sweat and water was pouring off them. "Well captain what did you think?" asked Connor.

"It looked fascinating, the way you fought makes it look like you've been fighting together for a hundred years,"

Connor and Duncan looked at each other and both let out a small laugh. Sheridan had no idea, how close to the truth he really was. Finally Duncan said, "Practice captain, practice."

Sheridan finally said, "Mr. MacAllister, shouldn't you get that arm of yours looked at?" asked Sheridan pointing at Connor's torn short.

"No, he just tore my shirt he didn't actually cut me," said Connor hastily.

Sheridan said nothing all though he was sure had seen MacAllister get cut.

"So you want to go a round, David? Maybe knock some of that rust off your skill?"

"Rusty? Who you calling rusty? You're on Mac...Brewster," Methos amended his near mistake quickly. Methos drew his sword a nice crusaders, blade and got into the on-guard position. He and MacLeod came together so violently that blue sparks flew from both blades. Back forth, back forth, parry; riposte. Finally MacLeod disarmed Methos and had his blade under his throat. "I yield," said Methos, hastily.

"You've improved," said Duncan, approvingly.

"Why thank you kind sir," said Methos, sarcastically, bowing to MacLeod. Sheridan watched the exchange between the two friends and began to get more and more suspicious. They acted like they'd know each other for a hundred years. He had researched on MacLeod until after 11:00 and had narrowed the choices down to three. He was going find out what made him so suspicious about these people.

"It was educational," said Sheridan. "Now I really must get back to work."

As soon as he left Methos said, "He is getting suspicious you know."

"I know," said both MacLeods' at the same time.

Methos shook his head and said, "Must you always talk at the same time? It is getting rather annoying."

Sheridan returned to his quarters and went through the last 3 names on the list. Finally the last name gave him something. After a minute, a picture appeared on the screen of his computer and he gasped in shock. It was a picture of Luke Brewster, David Cochrane, Jeff MacAllister and a young man with curly reddish blond hair that Sheridan didn't recognize. According to the information underneath the picture had been taken sometime in the late 20th century. "It can't be the same people," Sheridan muttered under his breath. "Computer look for all reports, pictures or otherwise involving these four people in the picture." A few minutes later the computer came up with another long list. "Start with the first one on the list and summarize each report for me."

The computer began to summarize with Sheridan listening intently to each report. Each report seemed to involve one of the four people, sometimes more then one. They had been questioned by, the police about a series of beheadings that started from 1980 to today. Only difference was the names. According to what the computer was telling him, the black haired fellows, real name was Duncan MacLeod. The sandy blond haired fellow was Russell Nash or Connor MacLeod. Sheridan didn't know which name it was. The dark brown haired man was Adam Pierson and as for the red head it said his name was Richie Ryan. _They can't be the same people it is impossible,_ Sheridan thought to himself. _I need to talk to someone about this. I know I'll go see Delenn. She'll know what to say._ He saved all the information he had uncovered on a data crystal and headed towards Delenn's quarters

He rang her bell and the door opened almost immediately. "Come in John," said Delenn.

"How'd you know it was me?" asked Sheridan.

Instead of answering the question she said, "I hear you've been doing some research on our guests."

"Yes, I didn't know anybody knew I was researching our visitors."

"Most of the command staff doesn't, but Mr. Garibaldi informed me that you were looking into it. And I believe he is as suspicious as you are and is doing the same."

"I wanted you to look at the data I have collected and know what you think," said Sheridan. He handed her the data crystal and she silently popped into her viewer. She looked over the information silently and raised an eyebrow now and then but said nothing until she was done.

"The only way to find your answers John is to ask them," said Delenn.

John left Delenn's quarters and ran into Mr. Garibaldi on his way to C&C. "Michael, I need you to do me a favor," said Sheridan.

"Sure what?"

Sheridan showed him a picture of Richie Ryan. "I want you to keep an eye out for this guy. If he comes on board I want him followed discreetly. I don't want him to even know you're there."

"Does this have anything to do with our three guests?" asked Michael.

"Yes, there is something about them. Do you know on of them came to me and wanted a place they could practice their sword fighting skill? I finally agreed if I could watch and let me tell you that the way they move it's...indescribable."

"They wanted to practice with swords and you let them? I wonder how they even got the weapons on the station."

"The sword Brewster was carrying looked like a real antique. A kanta if I am not mistaken. With an ivory handle and in almost perfect condition."

"I'll get the Rangers to do the tracking, they're better at it," said Garibaldi. "Brewster and his friends should not even know they are there." He left to carry out his orders.

----------------

Meanwhile Duncan stood at customs waiting for Richie's ship to dock. Suddenly Duncan felt the tingle of another immortal and saw Richie come down the ramp. Right behind Richie was a tall man, with slightly long black hair, beard and mustache. He was also a pre-immie. The man had on black pants, a black shirt with a black and brown vest and a long black cape. He wore a very unusual pin that had two silver figures one on each side and a green jewel in the middle. "Mac," Richie called walking towards him.

Mac hugged Richie tightly then held at arms, length looking him over. "All right already, I'm okay. Luke, I'd like you to meet Marcus Cole. We talked a lot on the flight here. Marcus, this is Luke Brewster a very good friend of mine."

"It's nice to meet you Marcus," said Duncan, shaking Marcus' hand.

"You too Luke," said Marcus returning the handshake. _There was something odd about this man and his friend,_ thought Marcus. He wasn't sure if it was his Ranger training or just some kind of six sense that was telling him this. Marcus looked into this man's eyes and into his soul and saw a lot of pain and loneliness there, but also happiness as well. Luke somehow that name didn't fit, but Mac did and that is what his young friend had called him at first. A slip of the tongue maybe, maybe not.

As soon as Luke and his friend had disappeared Garibaldi came forward. "Marcus, I want you to follow them, discreetly."

"Why?" asked Marcus.

"The captain's orders I'll explain later," said Garibaldi. Marcus nodded and left.

----------------

Over the next few days Marcus learned a lot about his young friend. One he wasn't half as young as he looked. Two he was very good with a sword. For he and Luke practiced quite a bit. Three Luke kept calling him Richie and Richie kept calling Luke Mac. Four he could drink with the best of them and far more then most. He made regular reports to Captain Sheridan and the captain took it all quite stoically. Then one day as Marcus was trailing Richie in downbelow a guy came up behind him and tried to stab him, Richie whirled around, faster then you could say watch out and smacked the guys hand against a wall, making him drop the knife. Then before Marcus could yell out a warning another guy came up behind Richie and succeeded in putting a knife through his back and into his heart. Richie fell to his knees and Marcus was at his side in and instant.

"Take me to my quarters Marcus and I'll be okay. I'll explain everything later," said Richie weakly.

"You need to go to Medlab my young friend," said Marcus.

"No! No Medlab, call them to my quarters if you want, but no Medlab," Richie insisted weakly.

Finally Marcus nodded and Richie fainted in his arms. Marcus picked him and carried him to blue sector where he was staying. He opened the door, laid Richie on his bed and then called Medlab from Richie's quarters and asked specifically for Stephen Franklin and no one else. He then called Captain Sheridan and Mr. Garibaldi as well. A few minutes later he went to check on his patient and found no pulse, whatsoever. To bad he was really beginning to like the young man. Stephen Franklin arrived just then Medkit in hand and Marcus let him in. "I'm afraid you're too late Stephen, he's dead," said Marcus.

Stephen went in the bedroom to check for a pulse and found none. "Well, why didn't you bring him too Medlab, damn it! I might of, been able to save him!" yelled Stephen.

"Because he asked me not to Stephen, and I abided by his wishes," said Marcus, unmoved by Stephen's anger.

Suddenly they heard a cough and both rushed into the other room to see a once dead patient sitting up in bed weakly.

"But this is impossible!" exclaimed Stephen, "You were dead."

Before Richie could say anything Sheridan, Garibaldi, Methos and the MacLeods' rushed into the room. Duncan went straight to Richie's side and they said nothing all though it seemed like a silent communications passed between the two. "It's okay Richie it wasn't your fault," said Duncan softly.

"Captain, this man was dead. No pulse, no brain activity, and here suddenly he is alive again. The wound he got was a fatal one. A knife in the back and into the heart."

"Mr. Brewster, would you care to explain how this is possible? Or should I call you Mr. MacLeod?"

"No, we really wouldn't," said Duncan, not flinching or showing any surprise at the use of his real name.

"Well either I get my explanation or you can stay here until you rot or the station blows up whichever comes first," said Sheridan.

A look passed between Methos, Duncan and Connor then Methos just shrugged as if to say he was washing his hands of the whole thing. Duncan and Connor sighed then Duncan said, "What we tell you does not leave this room, understand? No, informing EarthGov, the military, the Psi Corps or anybody. If too many people found out what we were we would be hunted down, killed like rats," said Duncan with a silent shiver as he remembered the hunters.

When Sheridan nodded Methos said, "Wait a minute guys, if you are going to spill the whole secret you might as well get Delenn down here. She already knows partly what I am anyway." Duncan agreed and Delenn was called.

Delenn and Lennier arrived a few minutes later and Duncan gestured for them all to take a seat. "I suggest gentlemen, lady that you suspend your skepticism for a while or we will never get through our explanation," said Methos. Then he stood back against the wall and let the others take over.

"Captain, you seem to know my real name so I will begin. I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. I was born in 1592 in the highlands of Scotland on the shores of Loch Shiel. I am immortal, their, are others like me and I cannot die."

"Wait you're telling me you are almost 600 years old, but that's..." Garibaldi's voice went quiet letting the sentence hang in the air.

"Impossible?" asked Richie finishing Garibaldi's sentence, walking unsteadily into the room, using the wall for support. "Tell me doctor, what was your first diagnosis of my condition when you examined me?"

"You were dead," said Stephen, slowly.

"Correct," said Richie. "Now do you see any wound whatsoever?" asked Richie lifting up his shirt.

"No, but how is that possible?" asked Stephen.

"Let Mac finish his explanation, then we'll answer your questions." At least the ones we can answer.

"Thank you, Richie," said Duncan, sincerely.

"Your welcome Mac, just hurry up so a guy can get some sleep. Getting stabbed to death isn't easy you know," said Richie, giving Duncan his cockiest grin, before leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes as a wave of dizziness nearly over took him. Duncan saw it and wanted to put an arm around Richie, but knew Richie would just shrug it off, thinking himself to macho to accept help.

"We play in what we call the Game," said Duncan. "Which is very dangerous and deadly."

"Let me guess, it involves swords," said Sheridan

"You got it," said Connor, finally speaking up. "If Duncan is done, let me introduce myself. I am Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. Born in 1518, died my first death in 1536. Now as Duncan was telling you about the game, it has to do with us fighting other immortals. The only way to kill an immortal is by taking his of her head to release their power their quickening. Some fight to win the prize, which we really don't even know what it is and others fight just to survive."

"You mean you actually take heads?" asked Franklin.

"Not unless we're forced," said Methos speaking up for the first time. "There are good, bad or indifferent immortals, just like humans."

"And you are?" asked Garibaldi.

"Methos don't ask when I was born because I don't remember. More then 5,000 years will do that to a guy."

Delenn didn't look surprised at this announcement, but Lennier gasped in shock. "Our young friend over there is . . ." started Duncan only too be stopped, by Richie.

"I can handle this Mac," said Richie. MacLeod nodded and stepped aside. "I am Richard Ryan, born 1974, died 1993. I am immortal. Don't make me stab myself to prove it, getting stabbed once a day is quite enough, thank you." Then Richie grinned and sat down in the chair Marcus offered him.

Sheridan had said nothing through the entire explanation, but finally he spoke up, "How can you tell an immortal from a regular human?"

"We feel what Richie calls the buzz in our heads," said Duncan.

"And is their anywhere where you are safe from other immortals?" asked Delenn.

"Holy ground," answered Richie. "It doesn't matter what type of holy ground it could be a church or a graveyard, Earth or alien. Holy ground is holy ground, it's all the same at least for the purpose of the rules and the game."

Duncan looked at Richie and saw how tired he looked. "That's enough for now Richie needs to sleep, get his strength back, but understand one thing captain we don't want to cause trouble, we came here for a vacation nothing more," said Duncan

Everybody left except for Connor, Methos, Duncan and Marcus. "You've been very quiet," Connor said to Marcus.

"It's a lot to absorb, is Richie really 189?" asked Marcus

"Yes," said Duncan.

"He doesn't look more then 20 or 21," said Marcus.

"I know, but the age we die our first death at is the age we look forever. I was actually hoping it could wait until he was 30 or so, but it just didn't happen like that," said Duncan.

"And how did he die?" asked Marcus.

"You'll have to ask Richie. It is not my story to tell although I was there when it happened."

"I think I'll stay with him for awhile if you don't mind," said Marcus.

"If Richie says its okay I guess you can after all he's a big boy he can take care of himself—mostly anyway," said Duncan, adding the last two words almost as an after thought. He silently kissed Richie's forehead then left. Richie smiled then closed his eyes and was almost asleep a few seconds later.

Richie was already half asleep as Marcus quietly entered the room. "Who's there?" Richie mumbled. He opened his eyes with a start and when he realized it was Marcus he closed then again immediately. "You know Marcus I knew you were following me these last few days."

"How?" Marcus asked startled at the admission.

"You don't live as long as I have if you don't know when somebody is trying to be sneaky, but you are better then most, if I didn't have so much experience I wouldn't be able to tell you were following me." Richie fell silent and it was a few minutes before Marcus realized he was asleep. Of course he didn't mention that Marcus was a pre-immortal and he had been able to tell the slight buzz that Marcus gave off.

"Good night Richie, sleep well," Marcus said softly. He had no idea why he felt such a kinship with this boy; no man; Marcus corrected himself, silently. Why did he feel a kinship with them all?

----------------

Richie groaned and awoke from a deep sleep feeling better then he had. He opened his eyes to see Marcus sitting in a chair by his bed, asleep. Richie touched Marcus shoulder gently and he awoke immediately, startled and instantly defensive. Finally he relaxed when he realized where he was. "It's just me," said Richie. "Thank you for staying with me you didn't have to."

"I wanted to," said Marcus.

Richie silently stood up and got dressed. "You're curious about how I came to be who I am today," said Richie when he got tired of Marcus staring at him, but saying nothing.

"Yes, actually I am, but if you don't want to talk about it that's okay," said Marcus.

"No I don't mind," said Richie. "Here have a seat," Marcus sat down and Richie began his story. "I grew up on the streets of a small town known as Seacouver. My father was a jerk and beat me whenever he could. I made my living as a petty thief. Then one fateful night when I was 17 I broke into Mac's antique shop and at that moment my life changed forever, literally...

----------------

Seacouver, 1992, night

The back door came open with a creak as Richie jimmied the lock. He silently entered and looked around. He walked into the shop and tried to be as quiet as possible as he grabbed some of the more expensive pieces. Suddenly a man came down the stairs with a sword in his hands and saw Richie, "I challenge you," he said.

Richie backed away and said, "I'm sorry mister, I'll just leave now." As Richie was turning to go there was crash as the skylight broke and a big man came through it and landed on his feet a sword in his hands.

"MacLeod! I challenge you," said Slan. There, swords met in a clash of sparks. "Not here, the boy, just tell me where and when and I'll be there," agreed MacLeod. Suddenly a sandy haired man stepped out of the shadows also holding a sword.

"Tomorrow night midnight, Soldiers, bridge be there or I'm coming after you," said Slan as he turned and crashed through a window. The sandy haired man followed Quince out.

"As for me," said Richie. "I ran like the dogs of hell were after me and went right though a window at the front of the store."

"That's not the whole story is it?" asked Marcus.

"No," said Richie.

Richie watched from outside as MacLeod inspected the damage to his shop then called the police.

----------------

The next day

MacLeod came to the police station to find Richie in custody.

"So you want to press charges MacLeod? We found all this stuff that is listed as stolen from your shop on him."

"Can I see him Detective?"

"Sure," said the Detective leading the way to the interrogation room.

As soon as they were alone Duncan said, "I won't press charges if you forget about what you saw," said Duncan.

"And if I don't?" asked Richie, defiantly.

"Then you can rot in juvie hall," said MacLeod.

"I didn't see; nothing," said Richie. MacLeod nodded and told the Detective he wasn't pressing charges.

----------------

That night

MacLeod was in the kitchen when he sensed the presence of another immortal. He drew his sword, looked out the kitchen window and saw it was Connor. He opened the door and exclaimed, "Connor!"

"I came to warn you about Slan Quince, but I see he found you first," said Connor, looking around at the mess.

"Yeah, I don't know how he did," said Duncan. Just then Tessa came into the room and looked at the two men. "Tessa I'd like you to meet my clansman Connor MacLeod. Connor this is Tessa Noel."

"A pleasure Milady," said Connor, kissing her hand.

Tessa blushed and said, "Why thank you kind sir."

Tessa left the two kinsmen to talk. "The reason he found you so easily is you are still using your real name Duncan MacLeod. If you changed it they might not be able to track you down quite so easily," said Connor.

"Connor we've been through this, I'm proud of who I am I will not change my name just to make it less easy for people to track me down."

Connor sighed and shook his head, "Duncan you cannot fight this guy he's young, but he's good and you haven't fought anybody in over 100 years. You went off to that damn island of yours.

"I know, but I just had to get out of the game for a while," said Duncan.

----------------

The next night

"I want you to stay here with Tessa let me go fight Quince."

"No, I will not have you fight my battles for me, Connor," said Duncan.

"I was afraid you were going to say that," said Connor as he knocked Duncan on the back of the head with his sword hilt. Duncan slumped to the floor unconscious.

"Duncan!" Tessa yelled rushing to his side

"He'll he okay," said Connor who was then out the door and gone.

----------------

A few minutes later at Soldiers Bridge

Connor stepped on to the bridge to find Quince waiting for him. "Hey you aren't MacLeod," said Quince

"Yes I am. I'm Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. Same clan different vintage."

Their swords met and sparks flew. Suddenly Quince pulled out a pistol and shot Connor. Connor; was to shocked to do anything, but stand there stunned as Quince's blade came towards his neck. He did the only thing he could and jumped over the railing and into the river. Suddenly Duncan showed up and met Quince's sword with his own. After a few minutes Slan Quince fell to his knees and Duncan shouted, "There can be only one!" The blade sliced through Quince's neck and his head rolled onto the bridge.

"I have never seen anything half as frightening before or since. There was like a blue-white mist surrounding MacLeod. Then, it turned into a kind of lightening storm. Brief, but intense. It struck Mac right in the chest and brought him to his knees, but when it was over he stood up and dived into the river after Connor. I was watching from the bushes as Mac dragged Connor onto the riverbank. I heard Connor say, 'I think he should be watched.' And MacLeod answer; 'I know.' I had no idea what it meant at the time, but the night I became immortal I remembered that long ago conversation and I finally understood. After that Mac gave me a job at his antique's shop and he and Tessa adapted me. We became a family until a year later Tessa was shot in a mugging and me along with her, but she wasn't immortal, I was." Richie finally fell silent lost in his own thoughts and memories.

"I'm sorry," said Marcus, finally breaking the silence.

"It's okay, it was a long time ago and I've mostly gotten over it. Tessa Noel will always live on in here," said Richie tapping his chest where his heart was. "You know the moral of this story is don't cheat like Slan Quince did.

"I would like to hear a little more about these rules of yours," said Marcus.

"Sure. One, it's supposed to be one on one. Two, you are never supposed to fight on holy ground. No immortal ever breaks that rule and I do mean never. Three there can be only one. One survivor at the end of the game where friend might have to kill friend no one knows for sure."

"Why can't you kill on holy ground?" asked Marcus.

"No one really knows, we just know that something really bad will happen to the immortal who; breaks that particular rule," said Richie. "Remind me to tell you sometime about the Watchers and the Hunters," said Richie, almost as an after thought. "But for now I'm going to find Mac and Connor and Methos, they must be worried sick about me by now. We can talk more later."

Richie found all three of them in the Zocalo looking around. "Well it's about time you got up, sleepy head," said Mac, teasingly.

"Hey, getting stabbed takes a lot of you," said Richie, defensively. Then laughing at their expressions. Laughing and releasing tension felt good Richie realized. Garibaldi watched them from afar a curious expression on his face. The stories these people must have to tell. They had probably met some of the greatest figures in history. Been there when the Declaration of Independence was signed. Met John Adams and George Washington. Been there for the drafting of the Magna Carta treaty and so many other things, the history that had happened around these people.

----------------

A few days later

Richie found Marcus in the gym practicing with a Minbari fighting pike. He'd heard of them of course, but he had never seen one or used one. "Want to go one on one?" asked Richie.

"Don't tell me you know how to use one of these," said Marcus, in surprise.

"A Minbari fighting pike, not exactly, but it doesn't look to different from some of the things Connor and Mac have taught me to fight with over the years."

They were your teachers?" asked Marcus.

"Mac first, then later on Connor," said Richie with a grin at the memory. "I didn't know I was going to be immortal until the night I actually woke up in the morgue. I asked Mac why he hadn't told me before and he said and I quote, You were already reckless enough, why give you cause to be more so?" Richie imitated Mac's slight Scottish burr almost perfectly.

Marcus laughed at the imitation while Richie got a pike off the wall and extended it with a slight shake. Richie held the pike like someone born to use it and Marcus used a few of the easier techniques at first then some of the harder ones. Richie met Marcus blow for blow and finally stabbed the end into Marcus' chest, none to lightly. "I yield," said Marcus, by this time a crowd of Rangers had gathered and clapped. Connor had also showed up, but had stayed back so as not to distract Richie at a critical moment.

"Good going Richie," said Connor. "I see I taught you well."

"Gee thanks, Alan," said Richie, sarcastically, using Connor's assumed name. "I would think it would take a bit of natural talent on my part."

Connor grinned, "Care to go a round Marcus?"

"Sure," agreed Marcus.

"I'll leave you boys to fight it out," said Richie with a grin and a shake of the head. "I'll see you later Marcus." Marcus didn't know what he was letting himself in for. Connor would wipe the floor with him.

"Yeah later," agreed Marcus. Richie walked through the Zocalo alone, looking at all the things on sale. How he sometimes yearned for those simple days when he just a kid living on the streets. The night he broke into Mac's shop had changed his life forever. But had his life been made better or worse by Mac's interference, friendship and training? Would he have been better off if he had never met Mac, learned about immortals and the game? All that was in the past though and it was not smart to think about the past in any great detail, you might end up regretting some the decisions you had made. He loved Mac like a father and Mac loved him as well. They had been thrown together, but it was like it was meant to be. Richie's thoughts were interrupted as somebody came up and walked beside him.

Richie looked up and said, "Oh hi, Mr. Garibaldi."

"Call me Michael," said Garibaldi.

"Okay and you can call me Richie," said Richie.

"You look a bit lonely Richie," commented Garibaldi.

"Just thinking about how me and Mac met. Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn't of been better off having never met him or learning about immortals, but no that is not fair to Mac. I probably would of lost my head long ago if not for him adapting me and training me."

"It must be lonely never being able to remain in one place for more then a few years. Never being able to make friends," said Garibaldi.

"Making friends isn't the problem. It's watching them grow old and die while you stay the same," said Richie, thinking of Joe Dawson. "I've lost a lot of friends over the years, but I really can't complain. Mac, Connor and Methos have lost a lot more friends over the years then I have, both mortal and immortal."

"What's it like being immortal?" asked Garibaldi. When Richie looked at him in confusion he added, "I mean you just don't live history you make it."

Richie laughed, "That is so true in its own way, but at the time we live it we don't realize we are making it as well," said Richie.

"So how did you and MacLeod meet?" asked Garibaldi, curious.

"I broke into his antique shop. I was just a thief trying to make a living. Wrong shop to break into as I soon found out. I still remember Slan Quince coming through the skylight and the clash of swords," said Richie.

"You'll have to tell me about some of yours and MacLeod adventures some time," said Garibaldi.

"Sure, but not out here, maybe in my quarters a bit later."

----------------

Richie headed towards Marcus' quarters. It was time he was told he was a pre-immie. He had already discussed it with the others and they agreed to let him handle it after all Marcus seemed closer to Richie. Richie rang the bell and the door opened almost instantly. Richie stepped inside to find Marcus sitting on the bed. "Marcus, I came to tell you something that you might or might not accept at first, but in time you will accept it if you are to survive."

"What are you talking about Richie?" asked Marcus, curiously.

"Remember when I told you I knew you were following me?" asked Richie.

Yes," said Marcus. "So?"

"Well the reason I knew is because I sensed you," said Richie.

"Sensed? What do you mean sensed?" asked Marcus.

Richie paused and wondered how the best way to tell him about his immortality was. Finally he just decided to say it and hope Marcus accepted what one day he would eventually be. "You're going be immortal, Marcus. Pre-immortals give off a buzz like regular immortals, but it is considerably weaker," explained Richie. Marcus just sat there too stunned to speak. "I know it's a lot to take in, but look at it this way you already have a good head start on the weapons training and that will help you out considerably if you are to survive," said Richie, trying to keep his voice lite.

Marcus still said nothing lost in his own thoughts. "Marcus?" asked Richie softly. Marcus was acting like someone going into shock. When Marcus didn't answer, Richie tapped him on the shoulder and repeated his name. Marcus came out of his reverie.

"What were you saying, Richie?" asked Marcus.

"Are you okay? I've been calling your name for a good five minutes," said Richie, anxiously.

"Oh yeah, I'm just great," said Marcus sarcastically.

"If you can be sarcastic, then you must be okay. You know you actually remind me of me, when I was younger." Marcus laughed silently at that, Richie didn't look more then twenty. "Reckless, willing to risk your life for the people you care about," Richie continued not realizing what Marcus was thinking. "Willing to take risk know one else is willing to take..." Richie let the last sentence hang in the air seeing how Marcus would react. Marcus said nothing and just looked at Richie. "Hey look man, immortality has a lot of advantages," said Richie.

"Such as?" asked Marcus, with still quite a bit of sarcasm in his tone.

"Well you get to live for a long, long time. See things other people never get to see. Go places nobody else has ever been. Explore the galaxy that is as long as you keep your head. You never get sick, you heal really fast even from fatal wounds," Richie continued after a pause.

"Yes, there is that," said Marcus, sounding less sarcastic now and more serious.

"I'm sorry Marcus, really I am, but my friends and I thought it was best to tell you now, before you died and came back to life in a public place..." said Richie. "At least this way you have a chance. When you do die track me down and I'll teach you how to use a sword. And if you don't well...I suppose you could run when you feel another immortal."

"I've never run from anybody in my life and I'm not about to start now!" exclaimed Marcus.

"I had a feeling you were going say that," said Richie with a sigh.

"I will have to tell Delenn about this," said Marcus. "And maybe Captain Sheridan."

"All right, but whoever you tell make sure you trust them, because we don't want another group of hunters on our tails."

"Hunters, you mentioned them before. What are they?" asked Marcus.

Richie sighed and said, quietly. "Hunters are people who think immortals are a danger to the rest of humanity. Not just the bad immortals like the Kurgan or Fecila Martins, but good ones as well. All of us have had more then a few run-ins with them over the years, and it nearly cost us our heads."

"Well, how did they find out about you?"

"They were originally Watchers who turned bad. Watchers are a group of mortals who watch immortals, but never interfere. They think it's important to record immortal history. Hunters are very dangerous even today. Every time we squash one group another pops up a few months later. You know talking about Watchers reminds me of Joe Dawson. Boy, how I miss him," said Richie sadly.

"Who's Joe Dawson?" asked Marcus, curiously, seeing the longing in his friends expression.

"Joe was a Watcher who broke the rules to help out Mac on more then one occasion, once Mac found out about him that is. Darius a 2,000-year old immortal priest had just been killed by a group of mortals we now call hunters and Mac went searching for the culprits. Darius had been a friend to Mac for nearly 300 years and Mac felt his loss deeply, still does in fact. Mac found a clue in Darius' Monastery a book with a symbol of a bird in a circle. The Watcher's symbol. He finally tracked it to a bookstore that Joe worked at and that's how Joe and Mac met. The only thing was that Joe already knew about MacLeod, because Joe had been Mac's Watcher for 15 years. Joe got ridiculed for it and almost killed by his own organization for befriending Mac. He died about 120 years ago. Well enough of talking about things that happened in the past," said Richie, just a little to cheerily.

"You all right, Richie?"

"Yeah, thinking about Joe always gets me down. He saved my life and my head once or twice even though he wasn't supposed to interfere," said Richie.

"Oh?" asked Marcus.

"Yeah, Mac had taken what we call a dark quickening. A dark quickening is when you take too much evil into yourself and the evil kind of takes you over. He tried to kill me, not once, but three times. Joe shot him and all though it didn't kill him permanently it slowed him down. Methos saved the day and knocked him unconscious, then took him to a holy spring in Paris where he actually fought his evil self and he won. It took me a long time to ever trust Mac again, but as Connor so reminded me if he had been in his right mind he wouldn't of tried to kill me and then began the healing of hearts. Enough talking how about I buy you a drink?" asked, Richie suddenly trying to get off the subject of Mac and him.

Marcus took it as a sign that Richie didn't want to talk about any more of his adventures at least for the time being. "Sure," said Marcus. "But I'll take tea. I really don't drink much alcohol."

A few minutes later found them in one of the better bars. Marcus ordered tea and Richie a beer. By the time Richie had drunk ten beers he was woozy. "Give me another one," ordered Richie the waitress.

"Don't you think you've had enough, Richie," asked Marcus.

"No," said Richie. Marcus sighed and said, "Come on Richie and I'll help you get back to your room." Richie resisted at first then gave in. He got up and walked unsteadily towards the door Marcus helping him along. They were walking down a long corridor when eight men confronted them.

"Your money or your life, gentlemen," said a tall greasy haired man, holding a knife. All of them had some kind of weapon, whether it was lead pipes or poisoned Drazi knives.

Marcus let go of Richie's arm and drew his pike extending with a snap hiss. Richie straightened up, his eyes clear and he drew his rapier from out of nowhere or so it seemed. Soon they made short work of the thugs and went after the leader. Marcus threw his pike and tripped the leader so that he fell forward, knocking his head on the floor. Marcus picked up the pike and Richie's sword disappeared into his coat just as security arrived. Garibaldi came over after he finished checking the scene and said, "Well you certainly made short work of them didn't you, Marcus. How'd you take on so many at once?"

"It's no problem for a Ranger with proper training, but I can't take all the credit I'm afraid. Richie helped quite a bit. Took out about half the guys himself," said Marcus.

Richie at this point was leaning against the wall his eyes closed. "You okay Richie?" asked Garibaldi.

"I'll be okay I just have a humongous headache. It'll be gone in a minute," said Richie. Finally he opened his eyes and Marcus noticed that his eyes were, clearer then they had been. Richie had managed to only use the hilt of his rapier and not the actual blade so the gang was going to live all though a few of them were going to have cracked and broken ribs from Marcus pike hitting with such force.

After Richie and Marcus had given their statements, they headed towards Richie's quarters. As soon as they were alone Marcus broke the silence that had fallen and asked, "How come you aren't drunk anymore? And where do you keep that sword of yours I didn't even realize you were carrying a weapon until just now."

Richie didn't answer until he was in the privacy of his quarters. "Immortals don't stay drunk for very long, that's the reason we have to drink so much just to get drunk. As for my rapier... immortals have got to carry their swords everywhere just in case you encounter another immortal that isn't friendly," said Richie.

"But how do you just put it at your side and in disappears?" asked Marcus.

"We really don't know all we do know is that it's something all immortals can do. A lot of immortals have theorized over the years that it's some kind of null space, but we really don't know for sure," explained Richie. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning, Marcus."

Marcus left and headed towards his quarters he had a lot to think about that was for sure. _Sometimes Richie seemed a lot older then he looked and other times he seemed like a reckless teenager,_ Marcus thought. All the sorrows he must of, had to live with over the years. All the scars he must have from his years of living on the street, but all the happiness too, maybe, just maybe that made it all worthwhile.

----------------

The next day

Richie and Mac were practicing their sword fighting skills when they felt the presence of a pre-immortal. They didn't let the feeling distract them as their swords met again and again. Back forth, back forth like a dance they went. Each testing the others strengths and weaknesses. Finally Richie had his sword at MacLeod's throat. Duncan raised his hands as if to say I yield. Richie dropped his sword and Mac relaxed if only slightly. "That was good Richie. I haven't had that much of a workout in a long time," said Mac, with a slight smile.

"You're welcome Mac," said Richie, as he smiled and saluted Mac, sarcastically with his rapier. "After all, it was you who taught me."

Marcus had been watching the whole thing and noticed the way the two men interacted with each other. MacLeod was the serious one while Richie was the funny and sarcastic one. Of course, MacLeod had been born a warrior in a time when the highlands were in a state of unrest with constant fighting and day to day life had been extremely hard. Richie had been born in a time where sword fights; battles and immortals fighting for supremacy had just been mere fairy tales. While MacLeod had born in a time where sword fights and battles had been a way of life. "Marcus, I suppose Richie told you what you will become?" asked Duncan.

"Yes," said Marcus. "And the truth of the matter is I was a bit shocked at first."

"That's understandable," said Duncan. "When I died my first death then came back to life it was a bit of a shock. My father called me a demon and banished me from the village never to return. I at first tried to kill myself by falling off a cliff, at least three times, until Connor found me and told me what I was. It took me a long time to make myself believe I wasn't a demon sent from hell to bring death and destruction, I was just a little bit different."

"When you do become immortal you will have to learn how to use a sword or risk losing your head," said Richie.

"Yes, so I want you to get to Earth and look me up. I don't care how you get their whether it's by hook or crook," said Duncan seriously. "Tell no one unless you trust them absolutely."

"I'll tell Delenn and Sheridan they can be trusted. They will help me get to Earth once I've died that is."

Duncan nodded, and said nothing more on the subject. The rest of the day was spent practicing sword, fighting techniques and Marcus even showed Duncan how to use a Minbari fighting pike. Their vacation was just about over, unfortunately. It had been nice to relax for a change, not think about immortals, taking heads and the like.

Until one day after they had finished practicing...Methos was the first to feel a presence then the others felt it as well. "We have trouble," said Richie, drawing out his rapier. The others were reluctant to do so.

"Uh, Richie. Shouldn't we learn if our little friend is friendly or not?" asked Methos. He glanced around. Their little band was in the room that Sheridan had provided for them and thankfully they were alone, no mortals or innocents to be put in danger. The presence got closer and a tall and thin man appeared in the doorway. He had dark hair shorn close to the scalp and piercing garnet eyes. He wore a long gray overcoat with matching shirt and slacks. In his hand was a silver broadsword.

"Gentlemen," the man said with a rasp in his voice. "I'm pleased to see you all here." He glanced from one to the other and so on. Until his gaze fell upon Methos. He smiled in a feral sort of way. "Hello, old man. How's it going? The Game and all." His eyes narrowed.

Methos' eyes did the same. "Been a long time, Erik. How, are you doing?"

"Fine. Healed a bit since our last meeting. What was it? Four hundred years ago in Milan, I still have a scar."

"Yes, I remember. I slit your chest from your neck to your groin."

"It was pretty painful if I remember. My organs nearly fell out."

Methos smiled with a fierce grin of his own. "There was something pleasant about seeing you lying there in a pool of your own blood."

Erik stepped forward and put his broadsword in both his hands. "Challenge me, old man?"

"Love too," Methos brought out his sword and stood in a defensive stance.

"Good," said Erik. Then he lunged forward, clashing with Methos' sword.

Cling, clang, cling, clang rang out the swords as they crossed each other time after time. As Erik brought the swords down in front of them, Methos put his head down and head butted Erik. Erik fell back while Methos fell forward and tried to cut his neck. Erik growled and pushed Methos off of him, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. Methos hissed in pain and with a yell, he grabbed Erik, pinning him down to the floor. Erik's hand loosened on his sword, and it clanged to the ground beside him. Methos smiled and brought his sword to the base of Erik's throat. Then he raised it and brought it down...

"No, Methos!" cried Duncan. "You can't!"

Methos raised his head and stared at Duncan with a penetrating look, looking like the Death of old. "Why not?" he growled, looking down at Erik. Erik's face showed actual fear.

"Remember? This is a tin can, a space station. What do you think would happen if you took his head? A quickening could rip this place apart and take us with it. Do you want to do that?"

Methos snarled and let Erik go. "I guess not."

Suddenly, Erik stood up and said, "Well, I have to go." He made a bow and stared at Methos. "Next time, old man." Then he was gone...

Security, a group of four men, came in and one said, "Where is he?"

"Where's who?" asked Connor, innocently.

"The guy . . . the Chief said that he was making a disturbance here."

"He left," said Richie.

"Oh, if he comes back, let us know." Then Security left.

Methos looked at Duncan. "MacLeod, I should have taken his head. He's less trouble that way."

Duncan just sighed.

----------------

A few days later

Duncan, Connor, Methos and Richie silently entered the boarding area to catch their flight to find Sheridan, Garibaldi, Delenn, Lennier, Stephen, and Marcus waiting for them. "So David, what happened with that little incident with that man?" asked Garibaldi.

David looked around and seeing they were alone he said, "He was an immortal a very evil immortal. And let me tell you the only reason I didn't take his head and as MacLeod so reminded me a quickening would have ripped this place apart and taken us with it. But we will meet again and next time space station or no space station he is not leaving the room alive." There was a hint of malice in Methos' eyes that even Garibaldi flinched away from.

Methos walked away and Duncan stepped forward. "He has a very...shadowed past that he has not quite come to terms with yet."

Methos came back over and said, "Delenn we shall meet again, maybe not in this life, but in the next, if I am still alive."

"Later old man," said Delenn, affection tingeing her voice.

The others boarded the ship while Connor stayed behind. "Captain there is something I must tell you. Marcus here will be one of us after he dies his first death that is. I would appreciate it if you would make sure he gets to Duncan on Earth when the time is right.

Sheridan was too stunned to speak. "Captain, you guys are his friends. You could save his life if you do this," said Connor.

"Of course we will," said Delenn.

"Thank we are forever in your debt. Until next time," said Connor as he shook everybody's hands and boarded the ship, just as last call rang out. The ship eased out of space dock, entered the jump gate and was gone.

----------------

A year and a half later

He was dead he was sure of it. "Come on wake up," said a voice in his ear. Marcus grudgingly woke up. All though he thought it was impossible to wake up since he was dead. He remembered giving up his energy to save Susan's life. Slowly his vision began to focus and he saw a kid with strawberry blond hair staring down at him.

"Hey Richie," Marcus said, his voice still drugged with sleep. "Where am I?"

"You're dead, then you're not dead," said Richie.

"Don't be so cryptic Richie," said Duncan. "Just get on with it."

"I'm dead? You mean I'm immortal?"

"Yeah," said Richie, with a grin.

"Where's my pike?" Marcus asked, panic in his voice. Marcus fumbled around until he found his pike, he extended it and breathed a sigh of relief. "If I had lost this...I never would have forgiven myself." There was a note attached to the pike. It was from Delenn. "Look a note from Delenn," said Marcus.

Dear Marcus,

I hope you had a pleasant flight and hope to see you again sometime. I knew you would need your pike in this new life so I have put it beside you where it shall always be. It will serve you faithfully and well as long as you treat it with respect. Everybody wishes you well in your new life.

Your friend eternally,

Delenn

P.S. Please forgive Mr. Garibaldi's inappropriate humor. John says its okay, but I don't understand it.

Delenn

Marcus looked up at his rescuers and asked, "What exactly did Mr. Garibaldi do?"

Duncan pointed up and Marcus looked that way to see a sticker on the lid of the cryo tube that said, FRAGILE, HANDLE WITH CARE. Richie started to laugh and Marcus couldn't keep a smile off his face, but he stifled it when he saw Duncan's expression. "Richie," said Duncan in an annoyed voice.

"What I thought it was funny, chill out Mac," said Richie all though he had stopped laughing at this point.

"Now what do I do?" asked Marcus.

"Now you come with us," said Duncan. "So we can train you to fight with a sword although I will admit the Minbari have taught you well." Duncan helped Marcus to stand up and Marcus walked unsteadily towards the door.

"Methos is waiting with the car," said Richie.

Marcus moaned as he walked and turned to Richie. "I'm sorry. I have this huge headache."

Richie laughed. "The headache that you have is called the Buzz. That's how Immortals feel each other. Don't worry; you'll get used to it."

The three of them headed out and found Methos waiting with the car.

"What took you so long? I thought you were going to take forever," Methos sighed.

"Isn't that a little contradictory?" asked Richie with a smile as he helped Marcus into the car.

"Don't reprimand your elders, pup," said Methos with a grin, lightly cuffing Richie's head. Slowly, everybody got into the car. Richie was in the driver's seat while Methos rode shotgun and Duncan was with Marcus in the backseat.

Methos groaned. "You're letting the pup drive!"

"Yes, now we need to get out of here before we are discovered," said Duncan. "I might own the warehouse, but anybody in this area this late at night is questioned, so let's go." Richie drove in silence and made it back to Duncan's apartment in record time. Richie helped Marcus up the stairs and opened the door to Duncan's apartment. As soon as they were inside Marcus collapsed on the couch. He was so tired. Duncan looked at him, kindly and said, "Why don't you get some sleep. There is plenty of time to discuss training tomorrow." Marcus nodded and Duncan showed him to the guest, room where Marcus immediately fell on the bed and was asleep in seconds. Duncan closed the door silently.

"I'll see you later MacLeod, Richie," said Methos, as he headed towards the door.

"Yeah later," said Richie. While Mac said nothing for he was a bit busy at the com system.

"Put me through to Babylon 5, President Sheridan's quarters," said Duncan.

"Connection to Babylon 5 complete," said the com system as President Sheridan's face appeared.

"Mr. President," said MacLeod. "Package has been received and is doing just fine."

"Good, good, where is he then?" asked Sheridan.

"Sleeping, Mr. President. He was extremely tired," said Duncan.

"Yes, Stephen did mention that being kept in cryo suspension might do that," said Sheridan. "Tell Marcus, Delenn, sends her love and so do the rest of the command staff."

"Will do Mr. President," said Duncan cutting the connection.

----------------

The next morning

Marcus woke up and looked around. _Where the hell was he?_ He wondered. Then suddenly he remembered he was immortal and he was at MacLeod's apartment. He rose and noticed he was still dressed. He must have, fallen asleep fully clothed. _He must have been really tired to do that,_ he thought. He exited his room to see MacLeod just beginning to set breakfast on the table. Real bacon and eggs from the smell of it, he hadn't had real bacon and eggs in a long time. "Good morning," said Duncan with a smile.

"Good morning," said Marcus.

"Sleep well?" asked Duncan.

"Extremely well, thank you," said Marcus.

"Good, because today you're training begins," said Duncan. Just as he finished the sentence they felt a buzz and Methos entered the apartment.

He did not look to be in a good mood. He looked at MacLeod sourly and said, "You owe me for this MacLeod, boy do you owe me big time," said Methos.

"Look at it this way, you can repay some of those debts you owe me for saving your life over the years," said Duncan with a grin at Methos expression.

Methos said nothing and simply glowered at MacLeod. Finally he sighed and said, "Fine, we will start training, but not until after breakfast." Methos dug in and Marcus looked at him. _This was going to be his trainer? What could he possibly learn from him?_

"Don't underestimate him, Marcus. How do you think he has survived for more then five thousand years without knowing how to fight?" asked Duncan, seeing Marcus' expression. Marcus nodded and said nothing as he to dug into the delicious breakfast, MacLeod had prepared. It looked like his new life was about to begin, whether he wanted it to or not. _Oh well, at least he was alive and that should count for something. He was immortal, wasn't that grand?_

The End


End file.
